Understanding
by loanshark
Summary: “How in the world had Fuji known?” Tezuka contemplates the friendship between himself and Fuji. Contains strong Tezuka & Fuji friendship and flashbacks into first and second year times. Companion fic of sorts to Aching Heart.


**Title:** Understanding

**Genre:** General

**Rating: **G / K

**Disclaimer:**Tennis no Ohjisama and its characters belong to Takeshi Konomi, not me…

**Warnings:** Not everything is canon-based, or even anime-based. Much is based on pure speculation on my part, especially things to do with their 1st year and 2nd year history…also, slight spoilers for Genius 121.

**Summary:** "How in the world had Fuji known?" Tezuka contemplates the friendship between himself and Fuji. Contains strong Tezuka-Fuji friendship and flashbacks into first and second year times.

* * *

"Tezuka."

It was the note of seriousness within the usually carefree voice that made Seigaku's tennis _buchou_ pause in his steps, awaiting the rest of the remark. Seldom, when in this sort of mood, did Fuji Syusuke leave things unfinished, and this was to be no exception.

"Is it ok for you to play against Atobe tomorrow? If your left elbow has not fully healed…you will lose."

There was utter silence for a heartbeat, and then Tezuka Kunimitsu continued to walk away as though Fuji had not just pronounced his defeat with absolute certainty in his voice. Behind him, the scuffing sound of shoe against concrete announced Fuji's return to the 3-6 classroom. Even then, he continued his proud, almost regal stride down the hallway, mindful of the admiring glances directed his way by boys and girls alike. It was only after he reached the relative safety of the 3-1 classroom and his own seat did Tezuka allow himself to relax minutely, and to prop his chin up in his hand.

It was in that moment that Tezuka finally realised one thing – that his first reaction to the tensai's comment had not been one of anger or indignation, but rather of detached curiosity, stemming from the one question in his mind:

How in the world had Fuji known?

* * *

Back when Tezuka had first entered Seishun Gakuen a mere two years before, he hadn't known, or really bothered to know, all that many people. In fact, the only reason why he knew Oishi Syuichiro all that well was because they sat next to each other in class, joined the same club, and lived in the same direction from school. This triple combination led to them seeing each other for close to the entire day, and it wasn't long before Oishi's careful and serious demeanour proved him to be a great friend for the stern Tezuka.

As the days passed, Tezuka's respect for Oishi grew, and after that fateful day when Tezuka had almost left the tennis club completely, their friendship was sealed. No matter what problems Tezuka would face thereafter, he knew that Oishi would always be supporting him.

And then Oishi came into contact with Kikumaru Eiji, a sprightly, cheerful first year with a unique tennis style and a determination to defeat Tezuka's 'little shadow'. Tezuka himself had been in the midst of a match with a second year _senpai_ when Kikumaru had bounced up to Oishi and demanded that they have a match. Tezuka had paused for half a second to think of the implications of such a game, and then returned to his own with renewed vigour. Some gut feeling was telling him that this was not a match to be missed, and he always followed his instinct whenever these moments came by.

He thought he saw a flash of bright blue out of the corner of his eyes, but paid no heed to it.

Ten minutes later, after trouncing his _senpai_ and refusing all other matches with as much haste as courtesy would allow, Tezuka arrived at the fence that surrounded the court in which Oishi was playing. He came just in time to hear the referee call out "four games-love", and watched as the red-head laughed arrogantly at his opponent. He heard the brief conversation that followed, and keenly observed both players' motions as Oishi began to fight back, and proceeded to win the match.

Tezuka was not surprised. After all, unlike many of the club members, he knew that Oishi practiced hard alone. Oishi well deserved the reserve position that their _buchou_ had given to him during practice matches with other schools. While that youth might not be as good at tennis as Tezuka himself, he was still a hard worker, and had already improved tremendously since the beginning of the year.

Tezuka walked towards the entrance of the court, wanting to go in and congratulate his friend, when the red-head's voice suddenly sounded through the court. "No way, I lost? Impossible! Hey, that was just a warm up! Let's play a proper match now, and I will beat you!"

Tezuka paused, then remained standing where he was, his lips just barely refraining from twitching into a smile. Ah…but he should have anticipated this part as well! After all, losing was one thing, but accepting that loss was a different matter all together, as his _senpai_ had demonstrated to him very clearly. That first year would just have to learn the hard way that Oishi would defeat him every single time they played.

And so he continued watching as they began to play a second game, and then a third. And his eyes narrowed as in the midst of the third match, the red-head began to pant heavily, and his flashy leaps and bounds became slower and less powerful.

The third match ended with the score even greater in Oishi's favour than the previous two sets. Tezuka could see that Oishi was beginning to feel worried – his very nature dictated that he would feel concern for his opponent, even if said opponent refused to accept it. But before Oishi could try to talk some sense into Kikumaru, someone else interfered.

Tezuka watched, admittedly interested despite himself, as the referee leaped gracefully out of the chair and towards the red-head. He was a small boy – short for his age, and had a slight build. He crouched down beside the hunched-over Kikumaru, and spoke just one word.

"Eiji."

The next instant, the acrobatic player had looked up, smiling slightly. "Nya, Fuji, I can still play, so can you go back, and be…"

They other boy interrupted him mid-speech. "Eiji," he said again, and then he opened his eyes.

_Brilliant blue._ That was Tezuka's first thought as he took in the sight. The second realisation chased hot on the heels of the first. _He's serious._

Kikumaru apparently thought so as well, as a look of resignation settled on his face, then was taken over by annoyance. With a glare he stood, yelled at Oishi that "he would be back", and then stormed off.

"Eiji!" the other boy called after him, dismay apparent in his voice, but the red-head didn't turn back. With a sigh of resignation he turned away, spoke briefly to Oishi, then ran off in the direction his friend had taken.

With the other two gone, only Oishi was left on the court. Tezuka finally entered, thinking over what had just happened. It almost seemed like a well-acted drama to him, but there was something telling him that this wouldn't be the last he saw of the other two boys.

"Tezuka-kun!" Oishi called out, surprise in his voice. "You've been here the whole time?"

Tezuka nodded in reply, thinking for a while before asking. "That was…?"

"Kikumaru," Oishi replied. "I'm not sure what his full name is, although the other boy was calling him 'Eiji'. He has an interesting play style, doesn't he? I think he'll be great at doubles."

"I heard you ask him," Tezuka responded, watching as Oishi became slightly flustered as he recalled his uncharacteristic straight-forwardness. "Who was the other one?"

"Ah…you mean the brown haired boy? 'Fuji', I heard Kikumaru call him. But I don't know who he is…he was with Kikumaru, and he just offered to be referee. I think I've seen him before though, but we've never been in the same group during practices, so I don't know what he's like."

Tezuka nodded his thanks for the information supplied, thinking things over. 'Fuji'; he seemed to have heard that name before, back when he was in elementary school. Perhaps if he could still find his old tennis magazines…

That night, the answer smiled up at him from the coloured pages of the kids section of a tennis magazine. 'Fuji Syusuke', the young prodigy who had defeated everyone – including all those older than him – to emerge champion in the junior's category of the tennis competition. Taking in the beaming smile, Tezuka couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to play against Fuji in a match, and began to anticipate it in his mind.

And then the next day came, and all thoughts of competition were driven from Tezuka's head at Oishi's words.

"I met Eiji yesterday, and he agreed to play doubles with me!"

Tezuka raised an eyebrow at this pronouncement, slightly confused. "Eiji?" he asked, although from Oishi's wording, he couldn't have meant anyone else but…

"Kikumaru," the other boy supplied, slightly abashed. "He asked me to call him Eiji, and said that he would play doubles with me until he could defeat me in singles. I think this will make a good doubles pair, don't you, Tezuka-kun?"

"Mm," Tezuka replied offhandedly, trying hard to ignore that stab of – _what was that feeling?_ – that ran through him. After all, Oishi was his first – and so far, perhaps his only – friend in Junior High, and to know that he would now be spending the majority of his time working on doubles with one Kikumaru Eiji…

Tezuka hadn't known what to expect, but he certainly hadn't been expecting the hurt.

* * *

"Tezuka!" a voice called out, and he looked back to see Oishi stepping out of the 3-2 classroom and jogging over to him. "Are you joining us today?"

A nod was the only response, even as they both walked down the hallway towards the main doors. That day being the day before the start of the Kantou Regional Tournaments, Ryuzaki-_sensei_ had cancelled the afternoon practice to allow them all time to rest before the match. She did this for every tournament, even though they all knew that the chances of any of them actually resting were slim to none.

Oishi had taken the opportunity, however, to propose that they go out for a quick snack, even if it was on the grounds of discussing the latest formation that Ryuzaki-_sensei_ had put the Golden Pair through that morning. 'They', of course, meant the Golden Pair, and each one's respective best friend. Both Fuji and Tezuka, although known for their singles prowess, could also play doubles, and to a far better degree than one Echizen Ryoma. Their advice and suggestions had always been welcome and taken to heart by the Golden Pair, who would then work to further improve on their formations.

Meetings like these always reminded Tezuka of his days as a first year, when the same four of them would meet in a crowded school cafeteria for the exact same purpose…

* * *

It took a few days before the full implications of Oishi and Kikumaru becoming a double's pair fully sank into Tezuka's mind.

On most days now, lunch heralded the arrival of the red-headed whirlwind named Kikumaru Eiji, and dragged along with it Fuji Syusuke. Often times they would meet in the cafeteria, each one with his own _bento_, and a chorus of "_itadakimasu_" would rise before they ate.

Tezuka learned many things in those first few days. He learned never to sit opposite from Oishi unless he wanted his ear chewed off by Kikumaru, who insisted that it was easier to discuss things with Oishi if they were facing each other. He learned to eat quickly if he did not want any food stolen from him. He learned never to accept food from Fuji if he wanted to protect his tongue. The first time he had refused on the basis that he was full; every time after that, it was for a far wiser reason that Oishi had revealed when he had accepted with a smile that was quickly wiped off as he fanned his hands at his mouth, as though doing so could remove the burning sensation of far too much wasabi.

That day, Tezuka also learned that the chances of having enough water to wash down the taste of Fuji's food were close to zero.

As time passed, though, he began to find out more about the other two people who were slowly forming large parts of his life. He learned that Fuji was an enthusiastic photographer, snapping anything that caught his interest and developing them by himself at his grandfather's shop. He learned that Kikumaru's house was pure madness in disguise, and contained far more living beings that his single-child mind could begin to comprehend. He learned that Fuji loved cacti, and had several pots on his windowsill, looking after them with the same care that Oishi gave to his fish. He learned that Kikumaru had an obsession with toothpaste, and the times he flounced into his chair with a pout and with Fuji smiling indulgently at him usually meant that one of his siblings had used up his toothpaste again.

He also learned that Kikumaru was a much easier person to understand than Fuji. The former was a very truthful person in that his actions spoke for him and his thoughts. He had no masks to hide behind, acting and speaking exactly as he felt without really caring about what anyone else might think. In contrast, Fuji was an enigma, constantly smiling, and never doing anything without a hidden motive. Even the mere act of opening his eyes had a purpose, as Tezuka soon found. It intrigued the young tennis star enough that soon, every lunch break was spent trying to find out more about the other boy.

He had not much else to do besides. While able to play doubles, he was above all a singles player, having mostly been in that position through his entire tennis-playing life. Had he been told to play doubles against an experienced doubles pair, chances were high that he would lose despite his obvious skill. Even Fuji was a far better doubles player than he was, as he discovered one day after watching Fuji and Kikumaru pair up and proceed to trounce another first year pair senseless. The brown haired boy would probably fare much better as a singles player, but at least he was versatile and could survive in both.

So he left the discussions at lunch mostly to the other three, and was content to just sit and observe. It suited his less talkative nature, anyhow.

He couldn't be sure, but he was quite certain that behind those half-closed lids, the one he observed was observing him as well. Though very different, they were also similar, each hiding behind perfectly crafted masks of their own, and daring others to try and break through them.

Each one also loved challenges, and would never back down from one.

The crux came one day when Fuji was challenged to a match by Takesue-_senpai_ – the same _senpai_ who had hit Tezuka's elbow with a tennis racquet, and who still regularly picked on other first years. He knew that Tezuka was practically untouchable if he did not want to face his _buchou's_ wrath, but it did not stop him from venting his anger on anyone else whom he disliked.

This time, it seemed, it was Fuji's turn. The ease with which he played tennis, the way he defeated most other first years, and the almost casual politeness he showed to his _senpai_, with the exception of Yamato-_buchou_, to whom he gave proper respect, had apparently not gone unnoticed. Takesue-_senpai_ seemed to make it his personal goal to knock down, as he called it, any first year who was too arrogant or too sure of themselves, and this list had now come to include Fuji.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tezuka watched as Oishi and Kikumaru tried to convince Fuji not to play, only to be gracefully brushed off by the still-smiling youth. And then said youth turned to him.

For a while, blue eyes caught and held his own. Tezuka kept his gaze impassive, absently wondering what the other would see in them, and started his own scrutiny. The younger boy's eyes held nothing more than a probing look, and soon, that moment passed. Fuji shrugged, flashed a quick, serene smile in his direction, and then turned and stepped onto the court.

It couldn't really be counted as a particularly spectacular match, or at least, not to Tezuka. Even as Fuji lost the first four games and Kikumaru moaned about it beside him, Tezuka could tell that Fuji was holding back. The slightly relaxed manner in which he held his racquet, the slightest pause in his steps just before missing the ball, all screamed of his lack of seriousness.

But there was something in Fuji's stance that gave Tezuka pause. While the latter had used his right hand to play against his _senpai_ because he did not want them to feel too bad about losing to a first year, Fuji's intentions seemed…different. Allowing Takesue-_senpai_ to win was not about saving his pride, but concerned a deeper, darker emotion that the first year was harbouring towards his _senpai_.

Tezuka wondered how he knew this, then concluded that it was his gut instinct. Absently, he questioned the wisdom of trusting that instinct so much.

His doubts were put to rest as suddenly, there was _change_. It was in the glint of blue that peeked from beneath Fuji's eyelids, the grip with which his hands held his racquet, and the extra burst of energy that was behind every run for the ball. In front of everyone's astonished eyes, the game count slowly rose in Fuji's favour, and then it was his match point.

And then Tezuka's own eyes widened in astonishment as he watched Fuji take a stance that he had not taken before, and the slice the ball. Takesue-_senpai_ ran for the ball, readied himself in anticipation…

But the rebound never came.

The sound of the tennis ball hitting the fence was loud in the sudden stillness that had descended around the courts. For a while there was no movement, not even from the two players. Then Takesue-_senpai_ rose from his crouch, his wide eyes slowly following what had been the path of the tennis ball racing along the ground.

And then the second year's eyes met those of his _kouhai's_, and his voice left him in a strangled gasp. For Fuji's open eyes were boring sternly into his, and those blue eyes were completely hard.

Tezuka, watching from beyond the fence, suddenly understood. This whole fiasco hadn't really been about winning or losing to Fuji. It had been about the bullying that the first years had undergone, the constant fear they had to maintain for this particular _senpai_, and perhaps, even, the pain that Tezuka himself had suffered when that racquet had hit his elbow. Fuji was not one to simply forgive and forget, and the match had been for revenge – through humiliation.

The gaze finally broke, and Fuji turned to his friends. Around him, Tezuka could hear the astonished gasps, and the faint whispers of "tensai". The name, it seemed to Tezuka, was going to stick – after all, who else knew how to execute such a counter, or had even thought it possible? It didn't matter that Fuji was only a first year, or that none of the Regulars had witnessed the event, having gone for a practice match in another school. Fuji had become the Tensai of Seigaku, and would remain in that position for some time yet.

But the crowned one himself did not seem too pleased about the excitement around him.

Tezuka watched as the blue gaze slid past Kikumaru's and Oishi's gaping faces. If anything, the smile on that face grew wider, but the gaze became sadder, lonelier; distant. And then, for the second time that day, their eyes locked.

Tezuka knew what his gaze was reflecting now. Even though his facial features were set, the excitement in his eyes could not be hidden. After all, there was at last someone who could play at around his level in the tennis club, the same person who was already a challenge to him and was about to become an even greater one.

For a moment, the blue eyes were startled, and then they sparked slightly before eyelids closed. But Tezuka had read that minute expression with ease.

The challenge had been issued – and accepted.

* * *

Friendly calls of "see you tomorrow!" sounded out before the four friends split up to walk in two different directions. The Golden Pair were heading back to school, hoping to find a pair of second years whom they could play doubles against and simultaneously work on their new formation. Tezuka and Fuji walked in the opposite direction, towards home. From this shop, they shared part of the way back, before splitting at a fork in the road.

Usually they would not even be walking back together, living in different directions from school, had Oishi not proposed this little outing.

They had not walked very far when they came upon a street tennis court, void of the usual players it always held towards the late evening, as students finished with their school club activities and met to challenge each other on the court.

As one, the singles aces stopped by the courts, before Fuji let out a little chuckle. "A rally?" he intoned, the sentence sounding much more like a statement than the question it was meant to be.

A nod came from his _buchou_, and he chuckled again before following Tezuka to the side benches, setting down his tennis bag before retrieving a racquet, then walking to the other side of the court.

He did not bother to take a tennis ball. Tezuka had always been, and would always be, the one to provide the tennis balls for their numerous rallies.

Tezuka himself grabbed his racquet before walking to the baseline of his own half of the court. Bouncing the ball several times, he then gripped it tightly with his right hand, his gaze coming to rest on his team-mate.

"Are you ready?"

* * *

"Are you ready?" Tezuka called out, as he readied himself to serve. His only response was a gleam of blue and the scrape of shoe against concrete as his opponent crouched into position.

It was with a tingling sense of excitement that Tezuka tossed the tennis ball into the air. At last, he was playing against someone of his own standard who was possibly capable of besting him in a match. It was an opportunity not to be missed.

The ball flew over the net, then returned easily. For a while the two players rallied lightly, just barely skimming the surface of their abilities. Then slowly, the ball began to fly faster, and the two boys began to run just a little more quickly.

With sharp eyes Tezuka observed his opponent, even as he played. There was still no sign of the Fuji who had played just over a week before, who had overcome a 4-0 lead to emerge victorious. This Fuji was still relaxed, smiling even as he chased the ball around the court.

But Fuji was a schemer, Tezuka had learned before. And as he delivered a powerful top spin, he realised this again. For within the blink of an eye Fuji was taking that same stance that he had seen before, and with that next stroke, the tennis ball was rolling along the ground beside his feet.

There was a brief silence, then Fuji's voice cut through the air. "The first of my Triple Counters…_Tsubame Gaishi_."

"Triple Counters?" Tezuka questioned, even as he bent to retrieve the tennis ball from the ground. Looking up again, he watched as that fierce, open-eyed gaze dissolved into a light chuckle and a friendly smile.

Without another word, Tezuka served again, briefly wondering if he would get to see all three counters. After all, it wasn't unusual for players to keep some tricks up their sleeve, saving them for those vital moments when all else had failed. Why should one reveal all hands to an opponent who could in turn think of ways to destroy them?

The return came; a high lob, a chance ball. A chance that Tezuka took, leaping high to smash it to the far right corner. Fuji ran quickly, and hit the ball again.

Another high lob; what was the other thinking? Tezuka was not a player to whom one gave chances; he created more than enough opportunities on his own. Mildly curious, he glanced over the net to once again meet brilliantly blue eyes.

_Smash it to me_, they seemed to tell him. _You know you want to…_

Tezuka gritted his teeth, and smashed the ball.

The next thing he knew was the soft sound of the tennis ball hitting the ground _behind_ him, the sight of Fuji's back before him, and Fuji's voice carrying through the air.

"The second of my Triple Counters; _Higuma Otoshi_."

Wide-eyed, Tezuka turned to see that yellow-green ball resting innocently within the base line. He glanced at his opponent to see the other youth chuckling softly at him.

"Do you want to see that again?"

The tone was innocent, and blue eyes guileless. Still, Tezuka frowned at the words that seemed to mock him and his abilities.

"Thirty-love," was all he said in an emotionless voice, before tossing the ball into the air and serving yet again.

For a while they just hit the ball normally, starting an endless rally. Then Tezuka saw his opportunity, crouched, and hit the ball.

It was a drop shot. Fuji ran forward towards the net and prepared himself for the rebound. But this time, it was the shorter youth's turn to be surprised, as the rebound never came.

Fuji watched, astonished, as the tennis ball rolled harmlessly away from him to hit the net gently. For a while he simply started, and then straightened. When he raised his eyes to meet Tezuka's, there was a new touch of admiration within those blue orbs.

"Fifteen-thirty," he announced, scooping the ball up with is racquet and tossing it over to the other youth. "What is that shot called?"

"Zero-shiki drop shot," was the reply, and with it came the hard serve.

For a while they continued to play, testing each other's strength, or as much as they were willing to reveal. And as they continued to play, Tezuka's disappointment grew, just as his excitement diminished. He still had no doubt that Fuji was a formidable player – except that said youth was not concentrating on his play.

Then a slight breeze blew, and Tezuka once again watched, dumbfounded, as the tennis ball curved high into the air, dropped down hard, and then bounced innocently back onto Fuji's side of the court.

"The third of my Triple Counters, _Hakugei_."

For a while, Tezuka just stared, impressed. And then as Fuji's words sank into his mind, he scowled.

"You showed me all three of your counters?" he asked, incredulous scorn in his voice.

"Well, yes," came the puzzled reply. "Didn't you want to see them?"

Tezuka just stared again, before shaking his head in exasperation. "Forget it, Fuji. Let's stop playing for today." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode off to the benches where his bag was.

A minute later, Fuji was beside him, packing his own racquet without complaint. It was only when they had finished and were facing each other again that Fuji frowned. "Tezuka, I don't understand."

Tezuka regarded him coldly, debating whether or not he should answer. Finally he spoke. "You're definitely a worthy opponent, Fuji. It's just that right now, with me, you aren't playing seriously at all. Neither of us will gain anything from this if you don't play seriously."

Fuji nodded thoughtfully, then turned to walk out of the court. Tezuka followed, wondering if he had managed to hurt the other's feelings. It was only when they had left the court and were again walking side by side that Fuji spoke.

"I'm sorry Tezuka, but I guess I'm not able to play seriously as easily as you can."

"I don't see why not," the taller youth replied. "Why would you wish to play against someone and not give your all in trying to defeat him?"

Fuji turned his head to stare at Tezuka. For a while they walked in silence, Tezuka staring resolutely ahead, and Fuji with his head tilted towards the older boy. And then he chuckled and smiled a guileless smile.

"Tezuka really has so much motivation, doesn't he? Perhaps I should stick with you, and see if I can learn some of this from you."

Tezuka spared Fuji just the briefest of glances. "Go ahead," came the sure reply, and it was rewarded with yet another beaming smile.

It really didn't matter to Tezuka – after all, if he could actually influence the other to play seriously, then Fuji's continued presence would be a small price to pay.

* * *

It was after several rallies that the first pairs of students began to appear on the court, and with them came the challenges. Tezuka Kunimitsu and Fuji Syusuke were popular names among the Junior High and High School tennis circles, and it was often felt to be an honour to play against them.

The first challenge they received, surprisingly, was for a doubles match.

Fuji turned to Tezuka, eyes open and questioning. For a while they looked at each other, and then Tezuka turned back to their challengers.

"A one-set doubles match, then. You may serve first."

As they got into their positions with Fuji naturally sliding into place in front of the net, it struck Tezuka how easy it was for him to have a doubles match with Fuji as his partner. As a formidable singles player, doubles tennis had always been his weakness, and it was rare that he was asked to play in a doubles match, except during special school practices. Oishi had once commented that he liked to dominate the whole court, leaving little chance for his partner to do anything.

But with Fuji, things were different. Somehow, it was much easier to co-ordinate with Fuji than with anyone else; it was as though each knew where the other would be at any point in time, or what the other would be doing. Tezuka would not have been surprised if they had even been breathing at the same pace.

He understood Fuji in a way that he could understand no one else.

And this, he realised, was the same for Fuji as well.

* * *

The year they became second years was a year of many changes for them.

Tezuka became the tennis club's _fuku-buchou_, and was suddenly laden with far more paperwork than he would have liked. Oishi, Kikumaru and Inui joined himself and Fuji in the ranks of 'Seigaku regulars', and began to terrorize all others with their unique styles of tennis. Two first years who joined the club were so unlike any other first year in the club's history, what with their constant bickering and vying with each other.

And Fuji Yuuta entered Seishun Gakuen.

Fuji Syusuke himself had told no one about this, not wanting others to place expectations on his brother because of his own doings. But already the name of 'Fuji' had spread through the school, such that the moment Yuuta introduced himself, everyone knew him as one thing only.

Fuji Syusuke's – the tensai's – younger brother.

Yuuta hated this. It was obvious to Tezuka in the way that he passed his older brother by in the hallways without a word; without even the barest of glances in his direction. There were few who enjoyed being in another's shadow, and Yuuta was no exception.

But Tezuka also saw something that most others did not – that Fuji Syusuke hated this as well.

Sibling rivalry was one thing that Tezuka would not understand, having himself come from a single-child family. But Tezuka already understood Fuji Syusuke very well, and so realised his feelings when all others had passed them over.

On the first day when the first-years were allowed to sign up for the tennis club, Kikumaru was the first person to bring attention to one, surprising fact: "Nya, Fuji! Isn't your little brother going to join the tennis club?"

They were running laps then, but even so it seemed to Tezuka as though all noise had stopped for that period of time before Fuji replied. "Ah, I think he might have something to do today, Eiji, that's why he couldn't come."

The others around them seemed to accept Fuji's excuse, but in Tezuka's mind, it was no coincidence when the very next minute, Fuji tripped over his own shoelaces and waved the others on, promising to catch up with them.

He wouldn't try catching up, Tezuka realised, and it was his turn to leave the others, slowing down until he was once again level with Fuji.

The shorter youth did not seem surprised to find Tezuka beside him again, and instead smiled briefly at him as though in greeting before looking back ahead. They ran another lap in silence before Fuji spoke.

"Ah, Tezuka knows what really happened, right?"

A pause greeted that rhetorical question before Fuji chuckled, the sound hollow in both boys' ears. "Yuuta isn't going to come. All that talk of him being 'Fuji no otouto' has put him off from playing for Seigaku."

Within that simple sentence Tezuka could feel the weight of emotions pressing down on the other youth. There was anger, frustration; perhaps even a little denial. But most of all, Tezuka could hear the pain and disappointment that Fuji was feeling.

It wasn't surprising, Tezuka realised – in fact, it was almost expected. The Fuji brothers must have been playing tennis together since they were young, and to have such a companionship destroyed because of others' talk was unfortunate at the very least, and simply stupid to put it more crudely. Still, the fact was that the situation had occurred, and the question now was how Fuji would deal with it.

And how Tezuka could help Fuji deal with it.

"He's not going to quit playing tennis."

Fuji looked up at him, the hurt in his eyes turning into surprise; for Tezuka had spoken with utter conviction in his voice. And from the taller youth's posture, and the gleam in his eyes, Fuji could tell that he had meant what he said.

And Tezuka did; for even from the little that he had seen of the younger Fuji, it was enough to be able to tell that this was a boy with a fighting spirit, and a boy who would not take such comments lying down. Even if he would not join the tennis club that his brother was in, he would still continue on, pushing and fighting to make a name for himself.

Tezuka told this to Fuji, simply, briefly, as was his style. Then he waited for the other's response.

Fuji continued to run in silence, contemplating what his friend had just said. And then he nodded and smiled, relaxing muscles he had unknowingly tensed.

"You're right, Tezuka," he said, and Tezuka almost breathed a sigh of relief to hear the genuine smile in the younger boy's voice. "Yuuta will definitely be trying to defeat me, so I must practice hard to defend against him!"

They ran past Ryuzaki-_sensei_ for the last time, and as Fuji turned to heed Eiji's indignant cries, he reached out to gently touch Tezuka's arm. And the older boy turned to him and nodded, just once, before making his way to their _buchou_.

_Thank you_ had been the grateful message.

_You're welcome_ was the reassuring reply.

* * *

The approaching darkness found the two Seigaku aces back on the road, walking home in companionable silence after having defeated every one of their challengers. It had been a change from their original plan, but a good workout, nonetheless.

It was also something that would have made Ryuzaki-_sensei_ sigh and shake her head in exasperation, had she known.

They came to that fork in the road where they would split up to go to their respective homes, and paused. Fuji turned to regard his _buchou_, his face one of complete seriousness, before reaching out his hand and gently gripping the other's left elbow.

"Be careful tomorrow," he said solemnly.

This time Tezuka had no doubts as to how Fuji had known. It was just how they were, the two of them; never speaking, always understanding. It was the result of two and a half years of careful observations; of working together, studying together and playing tennis together.

It was a friendship that he would not trade in for anything in the world.

"Ah," he just said in reply. "Play well."

Fuji smiled up at him, and then drew back his hand. "Tomorrow, then!" he said with a wave, and Tezuka nodded before making his way home.

It was just like at lunch that day, Tezuka thought, as he heard the scuffing of Fuji's shoe on the concrete. This time, however, he was no longer tense, and instead smiled lightly as he thought of their last words to each other.

He knew perfectly well that come the next day, neither would follow the other's advice; advice that conflicted with their very nature. But no matter what happened, they would always support each other, and be there for each other.

That was the way their friendship had always been, and would always be.


End file.
